I have read (and see) something about Hades and Persephone having chickens in the underworld, but this is really a fact or is something invent?
Chickens were indeed sacred to Hades and Persephone and an example of this are the terracotta votive tablets from Locri -the ones of the pictures-. There are some books about this subject like Iconography of Religions by Bianchi or Locrian Maidens by Redfield.
The cock/chicken “became the chthonic bird, and was used on tombs, as emblematic of the hope of a reawakening to life”. (Peters) and it is also refered as “an infernal animal of passage” by Bernabe in his book Instructions for the Netherworld: the orphic gold tablets.He also says: ”Cocks allude to the world of the afterlife: as intermediaries between the soul and the Beyond, they intercede between the world of the dead and that of the living”.
Remember Persephone was the goddess of renewal, so at least in Locri, the cock was an usual attribute of her. And in other cultures cocks-chickens were seen as animals related to renewal and life (eggs have that symbolism tooo).
:D so. chickens for Hades and Persephone all the way.
Always remember that scientists and government organizations have spent hundreds of billions of dollars in the past fifty years trying to prove that healthy, sustainable weight loss is possible. Throw that much money at something and virtually anything is possible.
If there was truly a way to safely and sustainably lose weight by just manipulating what you eat or how much you exercise, we’d all know about it by now. This is not one of those cases of “Oh, they just haven’t discovered it yet!! Science will get there eventually!”
Scientists have in fact discovered the truth of the unsustainability of intentional weight loss over and over and over again. People just don’t want to listen.
I wrote edelclaude and it was initially supposed to be cute but…. um. Anyways, I guess a lot of edelclaude and dimiclaude fics include claude just becoming cool with a lot of stuff very quickly and I just think I wanna see that sweet conflict. So.
VW run but with established edelclaude. Right after the holy tomb.
Might do a series of oneshots depending on how this one does. I love these two idiots.
I am mere centimeters away from writing a full on essay about how the “goblins are inherently antisemitic” myth spawned by this website propagates misinformation, displays a huge misunderstanding of what folklore is and does, and contributes to an environment that distracts people from how antisemitism actually operates and the ways in which it’s dangerously on the rise in our current climate–something which, surprise surprise, has almost nothing to do with little green fairy men
There are antisemitic iterations of the goblin! There are also antisemitic iterations of basically everything in European folklore, because if there was one thing people in Europe loved it was hating Jews! But those aren’t definitive and the problem there didn’t originate with the invention of the goblin–which was an evolution of other existing fairy myths, overlaps with them, and isn’t nearly as distinct, differentiated, or universally codified as people seem to think. It originated with people hating Jews, and using pre-existing stories and myths to express that hatred. Most of the time, though, they just wrote about Jews, because they didn’t need a secret magical creature code to be terrible to us. They could just do that!
The way that people on this website are obsessed with a single, “original” version of a story, which can then be deemed morally acceptable or unacceptable, goes fundamentally against the way folklore is created, propagated, modified, and used to fit different locations at different times. There isn’t a single “problematic” goblin canon you can point to! They aren’t defined that simply! And no, A Certain Popular Fantasy Series doesn’t count!
By focusing on the goblin as the problematic thing, and not the stories about Jews that the antisemitic goblin myths–which are rarer than people seem to think–draw off of, the Discourse™ focuses on a single pass/fail signifier of wokeness instead of actually educating people on the complex narratives that have built different iterations of antisemitism over the centuries. It is also, and I cannot stress this enough, not how folklore works. Learn about blood libel, learn about the myth of the Protocols, learn about how antisemitism uses Jews as the powerful other to justify other forms of prejudice and oppression, and don’t write stories about money-obsessed people with hooked noses. Goblins themselves don’t factor into that as anything other than a footnote.
the Discourse™ focuses on a single pass/fail signifier of wokeness
instead of actually educating people on complex narratives
It was a gentle tap on the door frame that made Grant jump a little in his seat. When his eyes searched for the source of the sound he found his gaze immediately monopolized by the ghastly glare of a white-ish iris.
Norman twitched his finger towards himself a couple of times, signaling the accountant to follow him with a small, vague smirk.
Grant obliged.
Their fast yet silent steps rose all the way up the building until they were drowned by the heavy murmurs of the orchestra room as they climbed, unnoticed, the stairs leading up to Norman’s elevated booth, from which they could observe everything and everyone.
The accountant quirked an eyebrow.
What’s the matter?
The projectionist’s sly grin didn’t falter.
You’ll see soon enough.
There was a slam strong enough for the drum player to nearly fall over, and Sammy marched into the room looking positively wrathful. He slapped a bunch of paper on his music stand, yelled something too garbled to be understood by non musical folks and grabbed his baton so hard it seemed about to snap in two.
His arm raised, and when it fell the brass section cried out a loud succession of furious notes.
Then the orchestra followed.
Grant had never, ever seen such a spectacle. His eyes were a pair of tea saucers behind is small round glasses as he beheld Samuel Lawrence directing the band with motions that would have been much more fitting of a person suffering from the possession of a multitude of horrendous demons who enjoy arguing with one another too much than of an angry musician.
The music was fast-paced, frenzy, and mad as all hell, and Grant had to hold onto both the balustrade and his kippah or he was sure the notes would have blown him away. The baton harshly swung from left to right and right to left, up, down, up, down, up, down.
He found himself more entartained than he’d ever been.
Someone chose a horrible moment to get in - the accountant couldn’t see who it was, as Sammy lost no time and threw the baton at the intruder, who immediately retreated in understandable terror as the music director yelled: “GET THE FUCK OUT, WE’RE PLAYING A RAGTIME!” before resuming his job, his hand cutting the air without mercy.
It took four minutes for the song to end with an explosion of brass.
Sammy inhaled deeply, readjusted his hair as best as he could.
And with a gesture, he told the band to get the actual music sheet they were supposed to be playing.
Up in the projection booth, Grant turned to Norman. The older man was smiling wide, his deep wrinkles cutting shadows into his aging face.
So?
The accountant smiled back, almost a little breathless.
